Little One
by my-fool-of-a-took
Summary: After Pippin is kept waiting in the snow for his cousins, he falls very ill. Frodo stays glued to his bedside, fearing for his life. CHAPTER 6
1. Default Chapter

**Little One**  
  
**Summary:** After waiting in the cold for Frodo and Merry, Pippin ends up with 'scarlette fever'. Frodo and Merry remain determinedly by his bedside, fearing he may die. Soppy, hopefully emotional. Basically writing practise for me.   
  
**Author's Note:** This is my first fic, and basically letting my imagination run lose, really. I don't think that the symptoms Pippin has are the same as what a person suffering Scarlette Fever would really have, but hey. It's really just a name for his illness, which I admit, I learnt of in Little Women. Pippin's 'Great Aunt Flo' is an invention of mine, she's not really a relation of his. Well, she might be, I haven't looked at his family tree in some time, but the point is, I invented her for the purpose of this story. Please r&r  
  
I obviously do not own Tolkien of any of the characters save Malta and Aunt Flo.

**Chapter One:**  
  
Pippin kicked at a pile of snow glumly, hugging his arms to his chest, shivering. The sky was growing dark, and he had been waiting by the farm's gate for over an hour. He climbed upon the sodden wodden railing to sit, tightening the warm scarf around his neck. Frodo and Merry had promised to arrive by four o'clock.

He had been eagerly awaiting their arrival for days now, and no doubt driving his sister's mad with his constant expectant chattering, but four o'clock had come and gone. By five Eglantine was tired of his whining, and pleads, and had allowed him to walk to the farthest fence: by the edge of the woods, to wait for them. It was now well past six, and still his cousin's had not come.

He blew air out the sides of his mouth, rubbing his cold hands together miserably. He knew his mother would order him to come home, had she been there, but she would still be preparing supper, and he wanted to wait as long as possible. It had been far too long since he had last spent time with Frodo: at least a few months. Merry he saw often enough, but he never grew tired of his friend's company.

He felt wet drops upon his face suddenly, and glanced up: starting slightly as he saw white specks falling about him. He sighed. More snow. He rubbed his freezing hands, supposing he really ought to head for home. Merry and Frodo knew their way.

He wished he had thought to wear his woolen jacket. Pearl had offered him her own, large furry coat, but he had declined, not wanting to look foolish in front of his cousins. He fondled his scarf again, smiling vaguely. Merry had given it to him years ago, as a 'bribe' for staying with his great aunt Flo for a week. Flo smelt like burnt vegetables, and was always making him bright woolen jumpers, at least three sizes to big or small. And her hole was always cold.

He abruptly noticed how cold he was: his breeches and jacket were damp, and clinging to his cold skin. His chest felt tight, and his eyes were stinging: they were probably red from the biting snow. Breathing seemed to burn his throat and nose.

Hacking coughs suddenly wracked his body, and he slid off the fence post, kneeling in the snow. He gasped for breath, shivering. Maybe it is time to go home. He waited for the coughs to cease before standing, but he found his knees buckled, and for some time he stood clinging to the fence. He felt drained: he wondered if he would even make it back to the hole just yet. He coughed again, and trembled, sinking again to his knees. He groaned, head spinning.

Perhaps... perhaps it would not hurt to sit down for a while... lean against the cool fence post... just as long as he did not fall asleep...  
  
......................................................................................................................  
  
"Bloody Julian." Merry growled. Frodo nodded, too angry to tell his companion to watch his language. He tapped Malta's side, and the golden coloured pony lurched into a fast trot, finding smooth paths through the snow. He sensed Merry urging his own pony, Stepper, to do the same. They both felt guilty, to have kept Pippin waiting so long.

Over two hours ago had they been due in Tookborough. "Do you suppose the filthy- knew we were in a hurry?" called Merry, restraining himself just in time, but Frodo heard the bite in his voice. He nodded again, cursing under his breath.

"Probably." He replied, folding his cold hands under his coat. Trust Julian to appear at just the wrong moment. They had already been delayed, when Merry's original choice in ponies, Thiasco, as his name predicted, had stumbled and hurt his leg. It would be alright in time, but they did not have any to spare. They had wanted to be in Tookborough before the snow storm hit, and that was a matter of hours away. It was lucky that Stepper had been stabled nearby, and after a quick inspection of Thiasco, they had been on their way, leaving the stable- hobbits to tend to the pony. Frodo had generously compensated him, mind. All Merry had to offer was a few stones and thin copper coins, of little value.

But then they had run into Julian, barring their way out of the town. He had pleadingly begged their assistance, telling them that his beloved younger brother had become caught in old fishing lines down by the pond. In a moment Frodo relived over in his head, he had believed the lying brat and cantered Malta a full quatre-hour back in the opposite direction, with Merry in tow, only to find the pond completely empty of any living thing save fish, and Julian's brother asleep in the small hay barn nearby.

Now they were horribly late, complete with horrible bad tempers.

"Poor Pippin... I promised him we would be there at four." Muttered Merry at his side, squinting ahead at their path; judging the distance to the farm. Frodo knew their young cousin would be disappointed, but hopefully he would not mind their delay if he stayed a few extra days. He saw not nearly enough of Pippin of late.

"I think he'll forgive us after time." Said Frodo dryly, glancing at his cousin. Merry had a habbit of over-compensating when it came to Pippin. Merry was no doubt thinking the same of Frodo, however.

Malta nickered abruptly, and slowed, pawing at the ground. Frodo rubbed a hand along her neck: at Frodo's request of an Elvish name, Bilbo had christened the filly Malta, meaning golden. She rarely spooked, even when it snowed.

"What is it, Malta?" he muttered, straining his eyes to peer ahead. Merry slowed Stepper too, looking uncomfortably at his cousin.

"What do you think it is?" Frodo shrugged.

"It could be just the cold wind... or perhaps a bird." All the same, he squinted ahead vainly, and listened out. Abruptly he noticed a dark smudge in the snow ahead: it was lying just below what seemed to be the fence posts, lining the borders of the Took's land. It was not moving, but Frodo could not make out what it was. It did not appear to be a rock, and it was too far into winter to be a plant.

"What is... Merry, stay here." Merry scowled, but all the same, Stepper slowed further to a halt, and his cousin straightened in the saddle, looking forwards apprehensively. Frodo urged Malta on, clutching at a large branch he had earlier plucked from the ground. As he approached, he suddenly realised what he was looking at, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He felt the colour drain from his face.

"Oh, no..." He all but fell of Malta in his hurry to the ground, and darted to the hobbit's side, pulling him out of the snow. "Pippin!" His cousin's young face was white, lips and eyelids tinged blue. He did not respond to Frodo's gentle shaking: simply slumped in Frodo's arms.

"Pippin!" gasped Merry, scrambling down from Stepper's back to rush to his side. "Pip! No, Frodo he's not dead, is he? He can't be. Is he alright-"

"Hush, Merry." Muttered Frodo, tearing open Pippin's coat, and laying an ear upon Pippin's chest. Faintly he heard his heart beat, and his chest was rising and falling ever so slightly. He let out a sigh of relief, but it was not much of a comfort. "He's alive." He announced at length. "But not very well."

Merry didn't respond: he was kneeling by Pippin's head, gingerly rubbing his cousin's colourless cheeks. Frodo forced himself to think straight: it was no good to sit here in the snow and watch as Pippin grew worse. He lifted Pippin up into his arms, and staggered to his feet, hastily pulling off his cousin's soaking jacket. He slipped out of his own clumsily, and wrapped it around Pippin's limp form tightly. He looked down at Merry measuringly, and took a deep breath, preparing for the argument.

"Merry, quickly: ride ahead and tell Paladin to get a fire started, and warm blankets." Merry looked at him, horrified.

"I'm not leaving him-"

"Merry, I don't have time to argue." Cut in Frodo quickly, lifting Pippin onto Malta's saddle, holding him up carefully. "We won't far behind, but I can't gallop with Pippin in front of me. Please, I'll look after him." Merry put a foot in Stepper's stirrup, but gazed at Pippin miserably.

"But-"

"Merry, for Pippin's sake, you have to do this. Please?" Merry still seemed reluctant. "Merry, it will take you all of five minutes to get there, and we will be ten at the most. Please, go. Now!" Merry hesitated momentarily before clambouring up upon Stepper's back, and immediately kicking the pony into a gallop.

Frodo sighed and hurried up onto Malta, wrapping his arms around Pippin and tapping the pony into a brisk trot. He felt his eyes stinging, and angrily pushed his fears to the back of his mind. He was furious at himself now: how could he have believed that lying runt Julian? Now Pippin was sitting less than half-alive before him, and it was all his fault.

Pippin stirred slightly, and coughed weakly: Frodo grimaced, as his cold body trembled. "Pippin? Pip? Can you hear me?" Pippin nodded numbly, eyelids fluttering open.

"...Frodo?" he murmured. Frodo felt like crying in relief.

"Oh, Pip... are you alright?" Pippin didn't answer, coughing painfully. "Of course you're not. Pippin, I am so sorry we were so late. It..." Pippin disliked Julian as much as he did, but somehow he doubted that the little hobbit was taking in much of what he said. There was little point in blaming Julian, just yet, in any case. Pippin grimaced, and let his head fall back against Frodo's chest, breathing raggedly.

"Why did you stay out here, silly?" scolded Frodo gently. "Weren't you cold, little one?" Pippin snorted, but it may have been indignation at his old nickname. The rest of the way was travelled in tense silence, after Pippin slipped further towards oblivion. Frodo spurred Malta into a slow canter, but he began to fear even a gallop would not get Pippin inside and warm in time.


	2. Homecoming

Author's Note: Aw, wow, thanks everyone for the really positive reviews! I was really nervous posting this, but the reviews have helped a lot! I'm glad you have enjoyed it so far. I promise to hurry and finish it ( I have a habit of leaving stories half-written on my pc) BTW, this chapter could probably be better... LOL. Sorry! Please R&R (I love Pippin...() BTW I just realised that I had been writing Tookborough instead of Tuckborough, oops.  
  
I obviously do not own Tolkien or any of the characters save Malta, Rob, Jac and Aunt Flo.  
  
Chapter Two:  
  
By the time Frodo could make out the lights of the Took's hole, Pippin was resting limply against him once more, and Frodo himself was starting to panic again. He spurred Malta to hurry the last few hundred yards, before letting go his firm grip on the reins, and straightening.  
  
As Malta slowed, an old hobbit who Frodo did not recognize hurried to them, taking the pony's reins.  
  
"Inside, lad, quickly. The fire is stoked and waiting." Frodo gratefully slid to the ground and lifted Pippin down into his arms, leaving Malta in the care of the stranger. He had no time to question him: he wanted to get his cousin warm.  
  
He scrambled up the slippery front steps as Malta began towards the stables, and reached for the door handle, but it flew open as he did so. Eglantine and Pearl were right there, pulling him inside and trying to hug Pippin at the same time.  
  
Paladin's sudden presence bought a little more order to the situation, but not much. He ordered Pervinca and Pimpernel to run out and gather clean, warm towels and clothes from the washing room out the back, just as Merry reappeared, running to his cousins in relief.  
  
"Frodo, Frodo! You're here. Is he alright? What took you so-"  
  
"Merry, lad, would you do me a favour and gather some more wood from outside to throw on the fire?" cut in Paladin hastily, gently guiding Frodo towards the fire. Merry paused, before nodding and disappearing outside once more.  
  
Paladin gently pulled Pippin out of Frodo's arms, and knelt by the fireplace, but Frodo refused to be moved away by Eglantine. He squatted at Paladin's side, and helped to strip his cousin of his soaking, cold clothes. Pippin jerked awake presently, but he still seemed more than half asleep, as Paladin spoke softly to him. Frodo didn't catch any of what was said, but Pippin smiled faintly after a moment.  
  
Pearl came to kneel besides them, bearing a pile of thick, warm clothes and blankets. Frodo smiled briefly at her, starting to relax. Out in the fields, he had felt rather helpless and alone: he hadn't known what to do when Pippin had passed out again. But here with Paladin, and even Pearl, he knew his cousin was no longer in immediate danger. Pearl put a hand on his shoulder, as she looked down at her brother glumly.  
  
Frodo held him upright as Paladin redressed him in thick, warm clothes, and draped a blanket around him. The Thain then lifted his son gently, and placed him in Frodo's lap: in a chair by the fire. At once Pippin sank back against him, coughing weakly. Paladin crouched before him, reaching up to feel his forehead.  
  
"Thank you, Frodo, for bringing him home safely."  
  
"Oh really, what did you expect me to do, Uncle?" said Frodo, trying to sound lighthearted. He was still furious at himself for being so late. "Leave him there to become a snow-hobbit?"  
  
Pearl gave a soft laugh, but Frodo had not expected anyone to be in particularly good humor. He suddenly noticed that Merry had reappeared: he was tossing more logs on the fire.  
  
"Thank you." Repeated Paladin firmly. "Do you mind holding him for a while, while I heat up something to eat?" Frodo shook his head quickly, and adjusted the blankets around his cousin.  
  
"I'll send for Rob," said Eglantine, pulling on her warm woolen coat. "And Bilbo shall be here soon, so no doubt he can help."  
  
"Who is Rob, Uncle?" asked Merry, from where he stood uncertainly by the window.  
  
"The healer, Merry." Said Pearl distractedly. "He'll double check that Pippin is alright."  
  
"Who was that other hobbit?" asked Frodo suddenly, frowning.  
  
"Who?" said Paladin at length, plucking Pippin's wet clothes from the floor.  
  
"The... the fellow waiting outside... who took Malta to the stables."  
  
"That must have been Jac, da." Put in Pearl, still crouching at Frodo's side. She raised her eyes as he glanced at her questioningly. "Jac dropped by to talk to da about his goats. Some had gone missing, and he thought they may have ended up on our land. When Merry rushed in, Jac waited outside for you. He's probably gone off home, by now."  
  
Frodo nodded and rested his chin on Pippin's curls. His cousin was still trembling, and breathing shallowly. He tightened his arms about him, clenching his fists. "Will he be alright... Uncle? I don't know how long... how long he waited out there..." Paladin looked over wearily, gazing down at his pale son. He shrugged regretfully, fingering the wet clothes in his arms.  
  
"I hope so, Frodo. Probably, with rest, and warming up." The Thain sighed, and walked tiredly towards the hall.  
  
"Oh, Uncle?" Paladin paused, not turning. "Could I stay with him tonight? I feel terrible, and I don't think I could sleep even in another room. Not tonight." Paladin laughed softly, smiling.  
  
"It's not your fault, lad. Peregrin has always been stubborn. I'm sure he knew he should have come home, but was too intent on seeing you and Merry. Don't worry. But yes, you should stay with him tonight."  
  
When her father left, Pearl also stood, watching Frodo with her brother briefly. "I will go and gather blankets from upstairs, for you and Merry. Thank you, Frodo. No, don't interrupt. You did what any would have done, but I am still grateful, and so is da. And you too, Merry. I'll wager you didn't want to leave him, but thank you: for listening to Frodo for once. Good night." She smiled. Merry scowled slightly as she disappeared around the corner, but he came to sit at Frodo's feet, looking up at his young cousin apprehensively.  
  
"Do you think he'll be alright, Frodo?" Frodo nodded, offering a small smile.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Pippin gets sick a lot, Merry, but he never takes long to recover. I think he will be fine. Truly. And Pearl was right, you know. I know you didn't want to go alone, but it was brave of you." Merry winced.  
  
"Frodo, I am not a child any more." Frodo shrugged.  
  
"Let's see... you are 18 years old... I am 32, Merry. Guess what:" He smiled sweetly. "You're still a child to me."  
  
Merry glared at him, but at length shrugged his shoulders, and turned to lean against the chair, legs stretched out before the fire.  
  
"So what does that make Pippin?"  
  
"Er... Pippin. He's a child too."  
  
"What a remarkable observation."  
  
"Oh, shut up Merry."  
  
Merry yawned, and Frodo found himself doing the same. "This isn't how I pictured spending the night here." Muttered Merry sleepily.  
  
"Nor me." 


	3. Scarlette Fever

**Author's Note:** Hey there, thanks again for nice reviews! I'll start responding individually when I get around to it... coz I'm lazy. Please note, that while I have some idea about what the 'real' Scarlette Fever does (i.e. symptoms...), what I've given poor Pippin may or may not be different, because I'm too lazy to look it up. It's just the name for his illness, so I'm sorry if I am wrong about anything.

And it occurs to me that Paladin may not be the Thain yet, so my apologies if he is not. In fact, I just looked at the family tree, and I do not think he is. Sorry! I'll change it from now on.

Please r&r  
  
I obviously do not own Tolkien or any of his characters save Aunt Flo, Rob, Jac and Malta.

**Chapter Three:**  
  
Frodo stirred, and yawned, still feeling bone-tired. He had tossed and turned during the night, while still hugging Pippin on his lap: he couldn't remember the nightmares entirely, but he knew they had been there.

He straightened, looking around sleepily. The fire had burned low: only a small log remained on the hearth, and was almost burned out. Merry was curled up at Frodo's feet, covered in a warm blanket. Pippin was lying limply in his arms, breathing slowly and apparently evenly. His skin felt much warmer then last night, Frodo noted with relief.  
  
He unconsciously ran a hand through Pippin's damp curls- and paused. He cautiously put a finger to his cousin's forehead, and hissed, scrambling to his feet. Sitting Pippin upright in the chair, he pulled away the thick blankets, revealing damp clothes underneath. Pippin was burning up.

"Merry, go and- Merry, wake up." He nudged the sleeping hobbit with a foot, who sat up groggily.

"Wha-"

"Go and get Paladin. Go, Merry." Merry sighed and staggered upright, but with a glance at Pippin hurried out into the hall. Frodo perched upon the edge of the lounge chair again, reaching out and gently shaking his cousin.  
  
"Pippin? Wake up, Pip." Pippin screwed up his forehead, and moaned softly. His eyelids flickered open briefly, but they closed again swiftly, stung by the morning light in the room. "Pippin? Can you hear me?" Pippin nodded slightly, wincing, and licked his lips.  
  
"I- I feel..." he began hoarsely. Frodo put a hand to his cousin's face softly, and smiled miserably.

"I thought you would be alright, Pippin. I should have really checked on you in the night. Heaven knows I was awake often enough to do so." Pippin said nothing, coughing softly. Frodo sighed and began unbuttoning Pippin's damp jacket, waiting impatiently for Paladin.

He was only a few moments longer, hurrying into the room, still wearing the shirt he had worn last night. Eglantine, Pearl and Merry were not far behind. Paladin knelt by the lounge chair, reaching up to feel his son's forehead. He grimaced, and glanced at Frodo.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked tiredly. Frodo shook his head regretfully, throwing Pippin's jacket to the ground.

"I don't know... I just woke and found him so. I don't think he was this bad during the night." Paladin nodded.

"He was not. I checked on him every now and again. This must have happened in the last few hours." Paladin stood and put on his coat, as Eglantine hurried to scoop her son into her arms.

"Where are you going, da?" asked Pearl tearfully, suddenly afraid.

"To see what is keeping Rob. Pearl, lass, put the kettle on for your mother, please. And don't worry your sisters. Try and get some water into him. I won't be long."

Merry hurried after Pearl to fetch cold water as Paladin left, and Frodo helped Eglantine to pull off Pippin's long-sleeved shirt.  
  
...  
  
Merry saw Paladin approaching long before anyone else: he was sitting nervously by the foggy window and peering outside, through a small circle he had rubbed clean of condensation. His name was also written above the peephole, but thankfully no one else had noticed that yet.

He ran back into the hall to open the door for his uncle, who stumbled through with a small laugh.

"I'm glad I didn't take you with me, Merry lad. You would have frozen." Merry smiled faintly, but Paladin's words were too close for comfort. Bilbo and another hobbit both entered, shrugging off their snow-flecked coats. Merry judged him to be Rob, the healer. Long, white hair framed his old, tired face.

"I am sorry to have taken so long, Eglantine." Announced the hobbit quickly, as she appeared from within the kitchen, and Merry nodded to himself. "I didn't want to leave my daughter until the babe had arrived. Mother and son both doing well." Eglantine smiled and embraced the healer briefly.

"Congratulations, Rob."

"Thank you. Now, where is your lad Peregrin?"  
  
...  
  
Frodo sat impatiently, drumming his fingers along the wooden tabletop. Merry was pacing back and forth in front of Peregrin's bedroom door, a tight, unreadable expression on his face. If Frodo had not been so worried he may have been amused. Bilbo had banished them from Pippin's room during the examination.

Merry suddenly sighed in exasperation, and leant against the door, pressing his ear against the wood in a vain attempt to hear what was being said.

Frodo almost laughed as the door was suddenly flung open, revealing a somewhat amused Bilbo and Rob. The healer smiled faintly, and nodded to Merry and Frodo before leaving. Bilbo took Merry's arm and stepped backwards, leading them into the bedroom.

"How is he?" asked Merry eagerly, rushing forwards to the bedside. Pippin had been propped up against several pillows, and was resting limply, arms lying atop a thin layer of blankets. He seemed asleep. Paladin and Eglantine were perching on the end of the bed, and Bilbo took a seat next to Pearl on top of the wooden toy-chest.

"He's just resting now." Said Bilbo softly. "He managed to stay awake during the examination, though." Frodo sat next to Pippin, laying a hand softly upon his forehead. He was still feverish, shifting slightly at the touch.

"Did he say much?"

"No... he said his throat hurt. Probably will for quite some time, poor lad." Frodo noticed the damp cloth resting beside him, and gently pressed it against his cousin's forehead. "He did ask for you two, though." Added Bilbo with a faint smile. "He fell asleep when we assured him you were just outside." Merry stepped backwards, looking down at his little cousin almost apprehensively.

"So, what is wrong?" Bilbo shook himself slightly, and returned to the bedside table, to where Rob had left several small beakers Frodo judged to be some sort of medicine.

"Hopefully, nothing that a few nights rest and generous servings of these will not cure. Hopefully. However, we shall have-" Suddenly the old hobbit noticed Merry standing there, seemingly for the first time.

"Oh, Merry lad: would you wait outside for a few moments? I want to talk to you alone." Merry's face was caught halfway between fear and a scowl, but after a few moments he spun and stalked out into the hallway.

Frodo looked at Bilbo anxiously, gesturing for him to explain. Bilbo seemed hesitant.

"This is going to be hard to explain to Merry." He muttered. He looked at Paladin, and said, "Pervinca and Pimpernel too. Those three cannot come near Pippin until he is better." Frodo blinked.

"Why, Bilbo?" The old hobbit sighed.

"Rob and I are almost certain that Pippin has an illness called 'Scarlette Fever'. It's highly contagious, but only amongst young hobbits. Frodo, you won't be in any danger of catching it, and I don't think Pearl would be either. But try and keep the others away just in case: even out of the same room... and I mean that, Frodo. Merry is absolutely _not _to come in here." He added quickly.

Paladin sat heavily besides Frodo, gazing at his son miserably. Frodo frowned at Bilbo.

"I still don't understand, Bilbo. What is Scarlette fever? Is that bad? Will he be alright?" Bilbo sighed again, reaching up to touch Pippin's burning forehead.

"Well... it could be a lot worse, but... it's not good news."

"It won't kill him though, will it?" asked Frodo with a smile, which quickly faded when Bilbo's answer was not immediately forth coming. "Will it?"

"Most likely not, Frodo. There is no reason yet to worry about it. But in extreme cases, it can be fatal. For now, all we have to worry about is keeping his fever down, and getting some fluids into him. Frodo, I think you may be staying here quite a while longer, but I doubt that you will want to return with me anyway?" Frodo shook his head blankly, looking down at Pippin.

Bilbo stood, and handed Frodo a small beaker filled with a clear, thick liquid.

"Try and get him to swallow all of this, Frodo, and then I want you to get some rest. Don't argue." Frodo listened vaguely as Bilbo directed Paladin and Eglantine in ways they could help, and asked Pearl to fetch some breakfast for himself and Frodo.

Before he left, Bilbo came briefly to Frodo's side, and put his hand upon his shoulder.

"Try not to worry yourself too much, Frodo. And try not to worry Merry, either. Chances are, that Pippin will wake up in a few days feeling as good as new. But we'll have to watch him closely, until then. You did well, bringing him home last night."

Frodo nodded silently, and waited for his 'uncle' to leave before climbing onto the bed, and lifting Pippin gently into a sitting position before him. He sniffed at the medicine gingerly, before raising it to Pippin's lips and tilting it forwards.

His thoughts flew back to Julian: _If that little brat hadn't_... He shook himself, watching as Pippin unconsciously swallowed the strong-smelling medicine.

"There's no point in dwelling on Julian," he said out loud, shifting his cousin's limp weight suddenly. "I suppose it's not really all his fault anyway. We'll just have to get you well, Pip, so we can pay him a visit then." He smiled grimly at the thought. The smile did not last long. He softly trailed a finger down the side of Pippin's cold face, and sighed.  
  
"I'm sorry, Pippin." His cousin shifted slightly, still more than half asleep. "I won't leave you until you are well."  
  
...  
  
Frodo looked up as Merry crept in, peering over his shoulder anxiously.

"Merry!" he scolded, as his cousin jumped. "You shouldn't be in here."

"How can I stay away, Frodo?" said Merry heatedly. "Pippin's sick... they can't expect me to wait in the next room and wait for him to get better... or worse-"

"You'll be lucky if they don't send you away, Merry." Cut in Frodo with a frown. "Don't you understand? You can catch this. It isn't just a basic cold."

"I understand." Merry nodded. "But I will not stay away from Pippin, not after we caused him to be sick in the first place. I want him to know I care about him, if he ever wakes up." Frodo was slightly taken aback by his bitter tone: he guessed that he and Bilbo had had some sort of argument.

"You don't have much choice, Merry." Said Frodo softly. Merry ignored him and took a step towards the bed. "Merry," he said warningly. His cousin gave him a mournful look.

"Frodo please-"

"Did not you hear Bilbo, and Paladin? Scarlette Fever is not something you want."

"Maybe it is." Said Merry coldly. Frodo gently set Pippin back down against the pillows, and came to Merry's side, grabbing his arm.

"Merry, I am being serious."

"So am I." He sighed.

"Merry, I know that you are used to looking after him, and comforting him... when he's sick, or hurt... but this time it's dangerous for you too. You'll just have to trust me to look after him."

Pippin groaned softly, as he woke, and Merry stiffened, gazing towards his little cousin. Sleepily Pippin held out a shaking hand, looking vaguely in Merry's direction. Merry swallowed and looked pleadingly at Frodo. Frodo sighed.

"Oh alright, but quickly. If you get sick... on your head be it."


	4. Calm before the storm

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone. Thanks again for the kind words. I have to admit, it's quite nice to know so many people out there are so concerned with Pippin. (I'm not the only one, yay) Keep the reviews coming!

Sorry it's taken a bit longer to update, schools started again so... groan. As promised, I've started to reply to my reviewers personally, so here goes.

_Life is what Happens_

(BTW I thought I should perhaps mention that Pippin is 10 years old in this fic, a year before Bilbo leaves the Shire, and he is the equivalent of a 6 year old human boy... sorta)  
  
**Orliey and XoO Phoenix OoX:** You guys are my most loyal reviewers! Thanks for all the kind words, and concern for little Pippin. He's most grateful. LOL

**Immortal Sorrow (Arrow):** Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it. ;) Frodo's Sister: I'm sorry you feel bad for poor Pippin. Something tells me he'll be fine.

**Coolio02:** Hey thanks. Another concerned Pippin fan! I'll look after him for you.

**Ice Ember:** Hi! You're one of my most loyal reviewers too. Thanks! Hehe, don't worry; Frodo will look after Merry too. He'll try at least...  
  
I don't own Tolkien, LOTR or any of the characters, save Aunt Flo, Jak and Malta.

**Chapter Four:**  
  
Keeping Merry away from Pippin proved harder than Frodo had originally thought. That first morning, Frodo had allowed his cousins a hug, and a few words, before sheparding Merry out into the hall. The look on their faces had almost broken his heart, but he knew it was for the best. 

For much of that day, Frodo had drifted back and forth between Pippin's room and the kitchen, spending as much time as he felt he could with Merry. Merry, for his part, spent a good deal of the day sulking, and pleading with anyone he thought could help him to get inside the room. At length he gave up, and began attempting to sneak inside.

Frodo understood how Merry felt, but was not going to let him inside. Having two sick cousins was not something that he thought he could deal with. Luckily, Merry was showing no signs of sickness or fever, so Frodo began to relax slightly. He trusted Bilbo. His uncle would look after Pippin.

Paladin and Eglantine arranged for Pimpernel and Pervinca to be sent away for a short while. Eglantine had realised quickly that Merry would not be going anywhere, unless they tied him up and dragged him away, so a bed had been made temporarily for him in the lounge room.

Now Frodo was sitting by the window seat in Pippin's bedroom, waving to the girls as their cart rumbled down the dirt path. Pimpernel was hugging her little sister tightly. Neither had wanted to leave.

A sudden cough startled him, and he jumped: straightening and turning around. Pippin was shifting restlessly in his bed, coughing weakly. Frodo sighed and came to kneel at his side.

"Pippin?" His cousin yawned and twisted his neck to gaze at him wearily. At length he smiled faintly, and held out a hand. Frodo took it.

"Hullo, cousin." Frodo smiled back.

"How do you feel, Pip?"

"...Been better."

"Yes, I guess you have. Do you hurt anywhere?" Pippin nodded slightly.

"Head... hurts... and my tummy." Frodo ran a hand through his soft curls gently.

"I know, Pip. Bilbo says you will have a headache for a few days, and it will hurt you to cough, no doubt. But don't worry: I'll be right here while you sleep. If you want something, you only have to ask." Pippin grinned weakly.

"Candy?" Frodo laughed.

"Perhaps. If you're well behaved. I'll try to sneak some in for you."

"...drink?" Frodo got up and found the pitcher of sweetened water, almost hidden amongst the towellettes and flasks on the desk. He also found a small cup, and returned to his cousin swiftly, holding it to his face.

"Here. I'll have to help you drink it, though." Slowly he raised Pippin's head, and watched closely as he swallowed gingerly. He set the cup aside when Pippin seemed to be having trouble, and Pippin sank backwards tiredly.

"Mer?" Frodo's face fell.

"Oh, er... well Pippin..." Pippin smiled hesitantly, and closed his eyes tiredly. Frodo looked away, searching for the right words, but a few seconds later, his little cousin had fallen fast asleep.

Frodo exhaled. There was no avoiding that question forever. ...

...

Merry glanced up glumly as Frodo flopped down upon the chair besides him. No words were forth coming, and Merry looked away, stubbornly waiting. He fiddled with the fork in his hands: Pearl had cooked him an early dinner of sausages and bacon, in an attempt to cheer him up. He looked down at his barely touched food, and smiled inwardly. At this rate, he would be begged to go back into Pippin's room.

Frodo rested his chin on his fist, and gazed at him with a faint smile.

"So, Merry, still sulking, are we?" Merry glared at him.

"What does it matter to you?" Frodo's barely readable smile remained, and he flexed his fingers unconcernedly.

"Well, I am your cousin. And still your friend, I hope." Merry said nothing. "Well, that's all right, Mer. I understand."

"No you don't." Slowly Merry raised his head, frowning still, but his face had softened. "You think you do, but... I understand why I cannot see him. You, and Bilbo, and... everyone, has already explained it to me, over and over. But I-"He paused, looking embarrassed.

"What?"

"Well... I don't..." he sighed. "Pippin is used... expects me to be hear him, especially when he's hurt or scared... I don't know, I just can't rest until I know he's all right. I just... can't help it." He glanced up at Frodo miserably. "I think... Pippin, in a way, helped to fill some of the... well, the loneliness I felt when you left. Even as a baby: at least I felt I was doing something helpful, when I looked after him... Not that he was replacing you, Frodo-"he added hastily, but Frodo waved a hand absently.

"No, I understand, Merry. Of course you were lonely when I moved to Hobbiton. I spent all of my time with you... I missed you very much for the first few months, myself." Merry nodded glumly. "Merry, you know that I would let you in to see him if I could. But... the thought of having two sick cousins is not something I want to... even think about!" Merry smiled faintly.

"I know."

"If it will help, I at least can convey messages to him for you."

"Just tell him to get well soon." Sighed Merry. Frodo squeezed his shoulder.

"Of course... you really should eat some of this, you know... Well, I have nothing else to do but return to Pip's bedroom. I'm a little to old now to have any interest in his... _mountains_ of toys, but maybe there will be something interesting to see out his window." He winked at Merry and stood, snatching up an apple as he passed, and disappearing into the hall.

Merry blinked.

"Oh, very clever." He muttered, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Aunty wouldn't let me outside any...way..." He glanced around swiftly, suddenly realising how quiet it was. The kitchen at least was empty.

Leaning forwards to peer into the lounge room from around the corner, he saw Paladin stretched out on the couch, sleeping restlessly. Pearl and Eglantine were curled up by the fire, dozing peacefully. The other girls were gone, and Bilbo was no doubt in the stables, gathering his things.

Merry grinned. He stood wearily, stepping away from the table, before pausing, and grabbing at a piece of bacon, which he chewed on as he slid outside.

Through the door, he was hit immediately by a wall of cold air, and shivered. He wished briefly that he had thought to fetch his jacket, but shrugged it off, too eager to see his cousin again. He supposed it had only been an hour since he had last hugged Pippin, but when he was sick, things were different.

He paused to watch Malta and Stepper, where they were frolicking happily in the fresh snow. He smiled, and made a mental note to lead them back to the stables when he came back. Pippin's little pony Shadow had joined them, and was nosing at something buried beneath the white blanket of snow that covered the fields.

He shivered again, and hurried away from the door, angling around to the rear of the hole. He climbed onto the slight rise of the hole, and stumbled upwards, crowing delightedly when he saw that Pippin's window had been pushed open. Merry slid down to crouch besides it, and Frodo leant out, smiling tiredly.  
  
"You took your time, Merry. I half expected you to beat me back here." Merry shrugged, finishing off his bacon.

"I had to sneak out, you know, Frodo."

"Oh yes, I imagine that would have been hard." Merry thought briefly of his exhausted uncle before grinning, and pushing Frodo aside so he could lean upon the glass pane, peering into the bedroom.

"How is our cousin?" he asked softly, watching the slow rise and fall of Pippin's small chest. Frodo gave him a sympathetic look.

"Not any different from when you last saw him, Mer. You're worrying yourself unnecessarily, I think."

"If that is the case, why can I not see him?" he moaned in reply.

"What I meant, is that I don't believe he will get any worse. Pippin was so looking forwards to this holiday... I think he'll force himself to wake up and get well soon, don't you?" Merry smiled grimly, leaning forwards slightly.

"I certainly hope so. It would be awfully lonely without him." Frodo glanced up, and suddenly wrapped his arms around Merry's neck, squeezing him tight. Merry protested weakly, and Frodo grinned at him.  
  
"Cheer up, little cousin." He said brightly. "Everything will be alright. You'll see."  
  
**TBC**  
  
Hey y'all. This is going somewhere, I promise. I'm a bit lost at the moment, I'm trying to write about six different stories, along with schoolwork, but I will try and make this more interesting, Ok? Thanks for sticking with me. The next chap is where it all happens.


	5. Waiting

**Author's Note: **Hey there, I'm back. Sorry if it's taken a bit long to update. I was delayed several days whilst worrying about Elijah (Wood), who was in Prague when there was a bombing there, and I didn't know whether or not he was alive. I panicked, LOL. I'm just paranoid. But I couldn't live without Elijah... quite sad, am I not?

I've also spent much time trying to 'rescue' this story. I'm sorry it has gone so far downhill. I still have hope in it though, so plz R&R

**I do not own Tolkien, or any of the following places or characters, save Aunt Flo, Jak, Malta, Shadow**

Big thanks to the following: I love every little review!

**Immortal Sorrow (Arrow): **Hii again. Thanks again for reviewing, I still get excited by them, LOL!

**Ice Ember: **Wow, interesting thought. I haven't actually planned that far ahead, but it could happen. Poor Frodo, I'd hate to subject him to that! Thanks for reviewing.

**Pipinheart: **Yea, I feel for Mer too. I'll look after him though. Thanks for reviewing.

**Robin Gurl: **Wow, thanks. It's an honour to be favourited. Hehehe, you're a bad influence on Merry!

**Orliey: **Yea he's looking better... but not for long, mwahaha! Just kidding. Really though, thanks so much for your constant encouragement! It means a lot.

**Firey Punk Girl: **Of course Pippin is cute! You can pinch his face whenever you want... if you really want. LOL. Thanks for the review.

**Leia Wood:** Thanks, and yes, poor Pippin still has a relatively long road ahead of him.

**Chapter Five:**

"Frodo! Frodo!" Merry jerked awake, sliding off the couch. Footsteps pounded down the hallway. Frodo was speaking quickly in a hushed tone nearby, and Paladin was answering frantically.

Merry scrambled to his feet, and struggled to free himself from the tangle of blankets.

"Frodo?" he called hesitantly, stumbling into the hallway. Frodo and Paladin spun to him, faces pale in the early morning light, and reluctant.

"Merry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-"

"What happened? What's wrong?" Frodo opened his mouth to speak, as Pearl rushed past, depositing a handful of damp towels in his arms, before vanishing back into Pippin's room. Merry stared at them uncomfortably. "What's wrong?" he repeated.

Frodo placed the towels diplomatically into his hands, and pushed him gently towards the door.

"Merry, lad, could you run these down to the washing room with these? I'll take care of them later."

"...Alright, but-"

"Frodo," called a tired voice from within Pippin's room.

"I'm coming, Bilbo."

"_Pearl_-" began Merry.

"Frodo, could you refill the jug of water, lad?"

"_Frodo_-"

"Yes, of course. Pearl, Bilbo asked if you could run down to fetch Rob?"

"_Someon_e-"

"Right away, cousin."

"WHAT HAPPENED?" cried Merry angrily. Frodo took his arm and steered him out into the kitchen, pressing him firmly down upon the bench.

"Sit." Said Frodo firmly, as he began to rise. Merry glared at him.

"Would you please tell me what is going on?" he said pleadingly. Frodo sat sighing at his side, smiling tiredly.

"Pippin's getting worse, Mer." Merry looked down at his feet, clenching his fists. "I mean, he got worse during the night. He's burning up, and... I'm not sure how he is, yet."

Merry took a few moments to respond. He couldn't help but remember Frodo's words the previous night: '_Everything will be alright, cousin'_. Frodo had not yet come out and said that Pippin was going to die. He had to assume that was good news, but Frodo was a master at disguising the truth, as Merry had learnt when they used to play mind games, back in BrandyHall.

He rubbed at his sore neck, stiff from his restless night on the hard lounge.

"Can he still recover, Frodo?" His cousin looked startled.

"Yes, Merry. I didn't say it was beyond hope... I just wanted you to know that things are not improving. It looks far from likely that Pippin will be up and about in the next few days. And things will be fairly hectic, also. You're more than welcome to stay, but I daresay it will be very boring." Merry swallowed, glancing up miserably.

"Let me help, Frodo. Please? I'll do anything." Frodo smiled and handed him the jug.

"If you could keep this filled with cool water, I'm sure you'll be a big help, lad."

* * *

Banned from Pippin's room, Merry did just that. He spent the next few days scurrying back and forth between the kitchen and hallway, transferring jugs of water, damp cloths, and garments. Anything to keep himself occupied. He had a feeling he would go crazy, otherwise.

Pearl had been encouraging him to go and visit Pimpernel and Pervinca, as the girls were lonesome, and it would be good for him to get out of the home.

Merry had so far been refusing, the level of politeness varying, depending on the time and his mood. He preferred being at least close to his cousin, even if he could not see him.

But, as Frodo had predicted, Merry was bored.

Not so much bored, as miserable and frightened.

Frodo spent as much time as possible with him. He was constantly reassuring, telling him anything that was in the least positive, but Merry saw through most of it.

Perhaps now was a good time to go and visit the girls. Pippin seemed to be neither improving or growing worse. As much as he wanted to stay close at Pippin's side, there was little point. He felt utterly helpless, as he was. He realised that if he went to see Pimpernel and Pervinca, he would at least be doing Paladin and Eglantine a favour. And maybe when he returned, in a day or two, Pippin would be better.

Maybe then, Merry would be allowed to visit him.

Sighing, he climbed down from the fence post, and ran a hand through Shadow's soft mane gently.

"I hope your master gets well soon, Shadow. We won't be riding through the snow at all this year, at this rate." The pony nodded his head in what appeared to be agreement, and Merry smiled faintly.

"I'll tell him you said so."

Exhaling, Merry turned away and angled back towards the front door. He had truly been looking forwards to their annual hike this year. Never before had he been so eager for it to snow in the Shire. Not that he would ever go without Pippin. He was as much a part of the tradition as the snow.

Shaking his head, he resolved to go and visit Pippin's sisters. No doubt Paladin and the others would not really need him, and he would after all be doing them a favour. He suspected that it was only a matter of time before they shipped him out anyway.

Before walking inside to the warmth, he cast an anxious glance towards Pippin's window. The glass pane was frosty outside, and he could see little inside other than the warm yellow glow of a hot fire.

"I'll be back soon, Pip... Don't go anywhere without me."

* * *

Frodo slid past Paladin, sitting carefully on the small bed, digging a hand absently into the thick layer of quilts.

"Uncle Paladin?" he asked quietly, gazing sadly at the older hobbit's face. Paladin's eyes were bloodshot, and bags under his eyes were a testament to his sleepless nights. He stirred slightly, turning to look at Frodo with a weary smile.

"G'evening, Frodo."

"Morning, you mean, Uncle." Corrected Frodo, returning the smile. "It's just past midnight, now. Aunt Eglantine thought you might like a break. I'd be happy to watch him, until morning." Paladin let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I'd appreciate it, lad. I really can't thank you enough for these last few days. You've been a big help." Frodo dipped his head slightly as Paladin stood, looking down at his ill son gravely.

"I wouldn't have it another way. Besides, I can't help feeling just a little guilty." He quickly continued, as Paladin opened his mouth to object. "I know, Pippin should have thought to come home. But that doesn't help now, does it?" He sighed. "I feel terrible for Merry."

Paladin nodded, crouching briefly to bundle up a pile of damp clothes. Frodo felt a slight pang, catching a glimpse of a small jacket. It was so small...

"Privately, I'm glad that he decided to visit the girls. It will be good for him, to get out of here. I hate to think how many meals he has missed."

"Merry can fetch his own food, Uncle." Said Frodo absently.

"Yes, but he was hardly in the right frame of mind to do so, was he?" Frodo opened his mouth to reply, and paused. At length he shrugged.

"Good point." Paladin shook his head, sighing as he straightened.

"Perhaps you should consider a break also, Frodo."

"No, I will stay right here, I think." Said Frodo quickly, and firmly. Paladin smiled, and nodded.

"As you wish. Good night, nephew."

"Good morning." Mumbled Frodo, as Paladin left the room.

Yawning, he turned now to Pippin, exhaling at what he saw. Though he refused to say anything of the sort of Merry, Pippin seemed to him impossibly pale. His small chest rose ever so slightly, as he drew in each ragged breath at a time. His typically golden hair lay limp and dull across his forehead, and his young face was drawn and sickly. On the odd occasion that he would wake and open his eyes, for however long, the normally bright green orbs were glazed and lifeless, as if the inner light within him had long gone out.

And it had only been a few days yet.

Frodo blinked quickly, and moved closer to his young cousin, laying a hand gently upon Pippin's forehead. Barely registering the touch, Pippin stirred only faintly, groaning almost inaudibly in his sleep. Frodo regretfully drew back his hand: Pippin's forehead was very hot, in his fever.

For days now, he had been ignoring all of these things. Pippin was sick frequently, but he always recovered. No matter how bad his illness was, after a few weeks, Pippin always woke up again. He would always sit up, climb out of bed, grinning, and it would be a struggle to keep him _in_ bed, for the following weeks, while he was supposed to be recovering.

All of these times Frodo had been there, no matter how busy he was. Merry also, and on occasion, Sam would insist on being included in caring for him. Frodo smiled faintly, wondering how Sam was doing, back in Hobbiton. Bilbo had enlisted him to look after Bag End while they were gone.

But this time, it looked almost possible that... perhaps, Pippin would not get up this time.

"You know, Pip..." whispered Frodo, looking gingerly at the young hobbit's face. "It's really not fair on us, for you to be this sick." Pippin said nothing.

Miserable, Frodo climbed up to curl into a ball at Pippin's side, figuring that a little more warmth couldn't hurt him.

"You'll get better soon, Pippin, won't you?" mumbled Frodo absently, more to himself than his cousin, as he gently ran his fingers through Pippin's hair.

**Note**: Just a short chapter this time. OK, next chapter will be more exciting, I promise. SCHOOL IS DRAINING ME! ... Anyway, thanks to all those who have reviewed, and kept with me. It's very encouraging. Plz R&R


	6. Improvements

**Author's Note: **Hey! I am very, very, very sorry for the delay. My family suddenly decided that we must move, and that is where the majority of my time in the last few weeks has been spent. Then my computer had a virus, so the next chapter of Voice Within has been stuck on my hard drive with this update.

Thanks to all those who reviewed, and as promised, this chapter is a little more interesting.

**Leia Wood: **Thanks for your review. Glad to hear you enjoyed that scene.

**Firey Punk Girl: **If you want, I'll hug my cardboard 'hobbit standees' for you. They stare at me as I walk down the hallway each night. LOL, thanks for reviewing.

**Ariel 3: **What can I say, but thanks for the tip. You're one of the first to offer writing advice, and it was much appreciated. I'm just too lazy with my writing.

**Immortal Sorrow (Arrow): **It's OK, I'll look after them while Merry is gone. Thanks for the review.

**Ice Ember: **Keep guessing, I'll add some more twists just for you. ï 


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